


Journey by Starlight

by Emblue_Sparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bunker pets that love each other, Bunker secrets, Canon Universe, Canon character deaths, Car Accident, Dean gave the bunker a name, Dean gets his TFW tropical vacation and then some, I SWEAR THIS HAS A HAPPY ENDING bc there's also:, Jack uses super hero logic, Kissing, M/M, No Aliens, POV Multiple, Pranks, QUESTIONS/REQUESTS FOR CLARIFICATION AND SPOILERS ALWAYS WELCOME, Reincarnation, Sam cringing, Sam is sustained by Deans extensive porn archives, Self-Sacrifice, Sex Humor, Sexy Times, TFW knows ASL, Whovian lifestyle, a non-cursed flat screen, christmas and chanuka, devastated TFW, established Destiel, future and past timelines, grieving TFW, hidden 1940's Tv, hopeful Billie, maternal death in childbirth, more to Cas than meets the eye, mysterious riddle, not your average holiday fic and yet...., now for the tough tags, pencil throwing, post Michael possession, prophecy within a prophecy, race car bed, recalling old canon friends, recollections of drunken strip poker, temporarily depressed boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emblue_Sparks/pseuds/Emblue_Sparks
Summary: Ending Michael came at great cost. Sam, Dean, and Castiel left their dying world in utter ruin, seeking a means of saving what they'd lost. With little but a few parting gifts and a mysterious prophecy, they've continuously searched for what was sacrificed, what was most precious, and what remains their only hope of returning home. As each reflects on the events which set this course, TFW begins sensing a shift in their search. What they'll find is more powerful than any of them could’ve imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was born of a dream about very different uses for the Bunkers instrument panels and grew from there. It's not what immediately comes to mind as a holiday fic but I hope by story's end, you find enough familiarity that preserves the timeless spirit in which they are each celebrated.
> 
> Many thanks to tfw-cas, aka- the Comma Queen, for fixing the endless grammar disasters and encouragement. Also thanks to Benka79 and Aya for all your support!
> 
>  

 

_December 10, 2018_

 

“Jack! I'm begging you, please,” Dean's voice wavered with dull, twisting anguish, ”c’mon kid, please don't do this. We'll find another way.”

“A better way,” Castiel pleaded, his exhausted voice trailing right behind.

Shaking his head with a disturbing calm, Jack gave them a smile filled with the purest love and devotion. Yet, Sam, Dean, and Cas saw right through the facade.

Jack lay down his course before them with a finality they felt painfully taking anchor in their bones, despite their hearts screaming against its crushing weight.

“I'm paving a road. It's a difficult..a-and very, _very_ long road. But it's the only one that will lead back here. And you're taking it, all of you.”

The eerie silence hovering around them shattered, as the earth groaned and rumbled with increasing seismic activity. All four were thrown to the barren ground, hands grasping to find purchase in any crack and crevice they could catch on, so as not to be swept up by the sharp, prevailing winds inevitably proceeding these quick, intermittent spells.

It’d started only weeks earlier, but already the weather had begun brutally exfoliating the once stunning landscape of Yellowstone National Park. The frequency with which the earth trembled around the caldera; was increasing.

“Y-you can't just give up like this! We're your-r... you're our _….._ child. Our _son_ ,” Sam gulped, unwilling to accept a loss of this magnitude.

This was it. Billie's apocalyptic 'House of Cards’ scenario, brought on by events following Michael's extraction from Dean. As a precaution, when Michael ended Lucifer, Billie finally took her gloves off and intercepted Jack's grace on its way to the void.

Approaching Jack and with his permission, she used it to fight Michael in a battle so immense, the collateral damage left gaping holes in our universe. Some were torn so wide they became mutliverse highways for the supernatural, coming and going as they pleased, wreaking unbelievable havoc. By the time she could return his grace, the only way to save humanity was to detonate it with a spell designed to channel and target all paranormal creatures in Heaven, Hell, and everywhere in between.

Jack's face crumpled at Sam's admission, but not enough to indicate a change of heart. “Your son,“ repeating with breathtaking relief, “Yes, that feels..right. You three are my fathers, because you raised me.”

“No. No, I failed you Jack. I promised your mother you'd be safe. This isn’t the vision you showed me at all. You were meant to do such great deeds, I- I don't understand…” Castiel questioned, heavy with hurt and confusion.

At that, the kid smiled. “You haven't failed me Castiel. You never have. And neither did you,“ reassuring Sam and Dean. “Everything you've perceived as a mistake has led me here, guided me to this moment. And you _will_ find me,” the kid promised, with a solid, renewed confidence.

“Jack, you don't know that!” bellowed Sam.

“I can't explain it. You need to have faith, in me.”

He couldn't be moved. It was absolutely killing them. Sam stood, shuffling in place, tears brimming in his eyes. Dean and Cas were also breaking, as they were forced to accept this choice, hoping he was right.

Jack first approached Sam, gifting him valuable moments exchanging words meant only for him. He stood on his tip toes, holding Sam's head carefully in his hands. Next, the nephil gifted time, words, and similar gestures of affection to Dean, then lastly to Cas.

“You're my family. Always. I love you, I love all of you,” Jack imparted, slowly raising his hand.

As the celestial light grew in strength, Sam moved near his brother and the angel, shielding his face. Dean, already spilling tears in immeasurable grief, turned to Cas.

The angel, utterly heartbroken in those last brief seconds, was surprised to find a warm hand firmly holding his own. The last thing he saw before the light wave hit, was a wistful smile on the tear soaked face of the hunter he'd spent the best years of his long life in love with, never suspecting how deeply that love was returned.

~*~*~*~

December 7th

 

“Mornin’ guys,” Sam murmured, sipping on his ample supply of steaming caffeine. He leaned slightly to pat the head of Gozer, his beloved Blue Nose pitbull they'd rescued on a stop in AU Joplin, Missouri, some years back.

“Good morning Sam,“ Cas quietly greeted as he and Dean meandered into the kitchen, cozy in their flannel jammies. Sam watched as he poured a cup for Dean, doctoring it just so, then carefully handed it to the green eyed wonder leaning sleepily against the door frame.

“Mmmm. Thanks Sunshine,” Dean affectionately whispered in his ear after slithering an arm around his waist.

Sam pleasantly smiled, observing his brother comfortably resting his spikey bed head against his 'other brother's’ even messier mane.

After an acceptable amount of time passed for conversation, Cas queried of Sam, “Have you looked at my report yet from earlier this morning?”

“Uh, yeah... and then I ran the numbers through the usual battery. Turns out you'd earmarked it a while ago under 'high potential’.”

“Back then the fluctuations were erratic, at best. But the alignments were atypical and advanced for a place still giving off inconsistencies within its aura band.”

“Your first notes indicated the timeline was pretty askew from ah.. from home.” Clearing his throat, Sam tried to move the discussion along.

No matter how much time had passed, it remained a difficult subject for all of them. Although, _home_ was the very reason they relentlessly pursued their mission, the _only_ mission they'd had since leaving.

“Huh! Let's go check it out,” came the suddenly bright eyed and bushy tailed prompt from the previously silent peanut gallery.

Sam eyed a decidedly more alert Dean sauntering out of the kitchen with nimbleness, Gozer trailed behind him with endless enthusiasm.

He and Cas entered the splendidly luminous War Room to find Dean, already fixating on details within the neatly organized binder on the panel, opposite the garage staircase. Initially, the permanent diamond white radiance and warmth encasing the bunker had taken some getting used to. So did the light outside flickering, then Cas's eyes flaring a brilliant white-ish blue for a second. But by now, these unusual occurrences were normal.

“Says here it was already at a triple conjunction, but the atmospheric fluctuations were just approaching a One. How does _that_ happen, Cas?” Dean asked, setting his coffee aside and bending down to give Gozer a pupper hug.

The dog snuggled into Dean with his front paws on both shoulders. A warm peace washed through Sam, equal was his joy witnessing Cas take Gozer in his arms from Dean to administer belly scratches. The dog hung practically limp between them, tongue lolling out in absolute heaven at receiving such affection.

“You see the aura band only when another body passes directly in front of that world. I don't require any level of conjunction to see it. Possibly we missed something-”

“But you don't miss that kind of stuff, “ Sam confirmed.

“No. Regardless, the strength of its aura band matching up with the alignments is necessary to justify getting a closer look,” Cas gently insisted, passing the contented pupper back over to Dean.

Sam took in Cas's hands operating the bunker's hidden technology so proficiently, remembering when he refused to trust a computer. The weird, dorky guy needed them even less nowadays, and yet, he operated the surrounding gadgetry with familiarity and ease.

Sam remained impressed by the incredible foresight the bunker architects possessed. He patiently waited as Cas smoothly flipped half the right side of the panel, revealing an entirely different sensor system. Easily missed by anyone unfamiliar with the bunkers secrets, it included a twelve inch Double D Admiral television screen from the late 1940’s. After tuning the panel’s instruments exactly where he wanted, Cas drew Sam's attention to the picture.

“The first time it caught my notice, the light fluctuations hadn't synced. Next time, they flickered and held the color spectrum for longer periods. Last night the aura band was definitely strengthening _and_ stabilizing. We should watch it more closely, you know how quickly it can progress when the event is near.”

Sam leaned in, “Alright. I'll watch, finished eighteen volumes of South African tax law from 1986-1988 last night. My brain needs some zen tunes and a rest. I'll settle for music of the spheres,” he issued, yawning heavily.

Sam was met with a grin from Dean and a promise, “We'll grab some better reading material the next time we're out, I still haven't given up the search for Evil Dead 2 on DVD..”

After a few hours with peaceful music, Sam noted minimal observations from the region. He became rather pensive the longer he gazed at the unexpectedly sharp image in front of him. The sphere rested in the center of the screen, silently mocking him, looking so like the one they'd left behind. One they'd been trying for years to keep in the forefront of their minds as a continuous motivator.

“Just keep swimming,” Dean would say.

But at the moment, looking at this silent alternate earth, it was hard not to recall that which had put them on this path, this journey they'd never thought in a million years they'd be taking.

Recalling Billie's “ultimate solution,” he sincerely hoped it wouldn't actually take that long, but realized by now, nothing was that impossible.

~*~*~*~

_December 10, 2018_

 

“A bomb? Him? No!” Sam railed, horrified, despite who he was contending with.

“This’d better be a _really_ bad joke!” Dean barked at a very non-kidding Billie, “If this is your ‘larger picture’ then shove it up your cosmic ass!”

Sam watched her calmly stare right back at Dean, as if he'd merely sneezed.  

“I remember communicating how _not_ thrilled I was about your involvement. Yet here we are, bottom of the ninth as usual. Seems to be the perfect pressure point zone where Winchesters hover before pulling a win from somewhere..unpleasant. There’s no joy in this solution for me, not for a _very_ long time. And yet, it is the only way.”

“So, because I'm a conduit, I could channel my grace to reach and destroy all supernatural creatures in Heaven, Hell, and everywhere else on _this_ earth?” Jack questioned.

Fury, anguish, heartbreak, flowed through Sam like an intravenous push all at once. From the looks of it, he could tell Dean and Cas felt the same.

“Bingo. Circle gets the square kiddo,” Billie quietly and calmly stated.

“Only, there's no remote detonation. He'll have to focus on finding everybody like a suicidal Cerebro while eviscerating himself in the process!” Dean yelled, fist balling and itching to throw down.

Sam understood his rage. His brother's turnaround from fighting to rid the earth of him just after birth had now flipped on itself. Dean was fighting to save Jack, Earth...kind of be damned. The final solution had come with its own sense of irony after all.

Billie delivered a painful perspective, albeit one of wisdom.

“If you allow him this, there’s a chance he could come back. If he doesn't take door number one, the _only door_ ..there’s _no_ chance, for anyone. You’d be selfishly leaving him to exist on a broken, dead world, devoid of your lives and all life period save his own, for all eternity. Would you condemn him to this?”

“He's a child for Christ's sake!”

“Remember you yourself Dean, were set on riding that one way soul train? When there was precious little choice during the cosmic sibling almost-death-match. How is this any different?”

Sam knew it wasn't. Dean knew it wasn't. But that didn't stop him from feeling outrage over it.

“Dean, you _love_ super heroes. Uncle Ben said to Peter Parker, who was still a kid, 'with great power, comes great responsibility.’ I have the power, I can do this for us. For earth. And you can find me again. You're _my_ hero Dean. Sam you're my Thor, and Cas..you're my Superman,” the kid looked at all of them with stars in his eyes.

Sam took one glimpse at Dean, and knew in that moment his brother wanted to kill himself for sharing those movies with Jack.  

“Some hero I am…. “

Sam hurt so much watching Dean tearing himself apart inside, as he tried to take the blame as usual.

“It was my choice. I invited Michael in. You shouldn't have to shoulder this Jack. This shit storm is on me, and me alone!”

“But it’s my responsibility. I was born for this,” Jack insisted.

“You were meant to save the world, not destroy it,” Sam argued, his voice full of such ache it was barely above a whisper.

“I’m saving what I can of it now, for when I come back later. When Castiel died, what did he do?” Jack asked.

Sam was confused. Dean was too, as he was coming up with zilch.

But Castiel replied without missing a beat, “I fought to get back, and did.”

“All of you have died and come back repeatedly. If I'm a Winchester, then this is _exactly_ what I'll do. And when you find me, you'll bring me back home to rebuild.”

Billie promised, “I’ll close all the portals, so nothing else escapes. The only guardian here will be me, once I close that door there’s nothing that will get through. _Nothing._ You have my word.” As if that made it remotely acceptable.

For Sam, recalling those last minutes before Jack teleported them back to the bunker for safety as he went out like the Fourth of July, was still difficult. But even more perplexing was what he'd bestowed upon him, as a parting gift.

Jack hugged him so tightly, “Things will be very different when you come back, Sam. Every place will need a leader, to keep a strong, harmonious balance. You need to understand, I mean well and want to help you someday take charge of your demons, to conquer them. For this reason, I give you dominion over Hell.”

“W-what?”

“It was never supposed to be a place of torture, Lucifer twisted it. A place of purification, yes. But it’s a realm designed for wayward souls to redeem themselves, so they can eventually go back to their true home. Charles Xavier said, ‘Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn't mean they can't be saved,’ or redeemed in this case. Lead them to that redemption Sam, make Hell great again, a just place worthy of its inhabitants.”

“Jack..please stay. We need you, we love you.”

The kid smiled radiantly and said the oddest thing, while an equally peculiar sensation of being sorta microwaved but not hurting, tickled through Sam.

“ _A binary sun born under its star_

_Received by vessels from near and far”_

“What does that mean..I..I don't understand.”

“You will Dad. Remember it, and you will.”

~*~*~*~

December 7th

 

Shaking himself from reverie, Sam realized he'd lost track of time, the numbers above the screen were flashing half past beer o’ clock. Flipping the panel over again, he then grabbed some beers on his way to the Dean Cave.

Skid Row's “18 and Life” was blaring down the hall, which meant Cas was in a decent enough mood to put up with Dean's exceptional mood. Sam loved the times when Cas's mood decided to switch alliances and give Dean shit.

The two were thick as thieves at the bar, huddled close, Cas's back was to the door, but he could see they were still talking.

“I _know_ you guys aren't plotting Prank War 57.0 or whatever it is we're onto now…”

He thoroughly enjoyed Dean's wide eyed reaction, as if someone just kicked him in the taint.

Dean straightened up, pointed a finger accusingly at Sam and growled, “Stay the hell out of our lube _bitch._ Touch my shit again and I’ll put Nair in your shampoo.”

Sam chuckled and could see Cas's shoulders shaking silently with laughter.

“Hair gel not gettin’ the job done Dean?” Sam playfully antagonized.

Cas lazily swiveled his rotating bar stool to face him, casually taking a swig of beer.

With a beatific smile and gleam in his eyes, he mildly threatened, “Sam, I'm always happy to overshare in regards to just how well he's ‘gettin’ the job done’,” making his trademark air quotes, “I can describe his impressive work ethic in breathtaking detail, again….if you'd like _.”_  

Sam gave a full body shiver, remembering the last time he'd gotten an earful of their sex life.

“How 'bout _NO._ Where's Gozer?” Sam asked.

Dean proudly grinned, satisfied his brother’s mischievousness had been quelled by the backfire.

“With Gerald in the garage, I'll grab’em in a bit.”

“So,” Sam began, rubbing his hands together, “Texas Hold'em?”

Dean laid down the law with a slap of his hand on the bar counter. “Hell no. It's either Forza tonight, the _Furious_ addition on the XBox, or foosball.”

“Are we ever going to play poker again?” Cas asked, dejectedly.

Sam did a second full body shiver, recalling the last time they'd all played poker.

“Not when it ends with strip poker Cas,” Dean reminded.

Cas’s body stiffened in defense. “The outcome of that game, or even that _night_ was not my fault! Getting you both highly inebriated was the only way to keep you from drowning in disappointment at that false alarm. It was _you_ Dean, who turned it into a strip game…which I did not mind in the least.”

Sam guffawed, his teasing laced with laughter.

"But it's also not my fault _you_ ,” Cas accused, pointing to Sam, “were so drunk you wanted to strip as well.”

“That was pretty awkward the next morning by the way,” Sam uncomfortably cleared his throat.

“ _You_ felt awkward?! I'm the one you drunken jackasses demanded judge your idiotic Mr. Universe 'Special Naked Edition’! Sam, I couldn't care less if you’re naked or not, it's your brother I find attractive. You have a very healthy form, but I find you about as exciting as Tuesdays...no offense,” Cas tried to placate.

Sam watched as Dean's face glowed in humor, mischief, and laughter..and as icky as it felt hearing about his own embarrassing shenanigans from that night, he thought it was great seeing his brother so happy.

“None taken Cas. Maybe it's best we don't mix poker and booze anymore.”

“Whatever makes you happy Sam,” Cas agreed.

“So, Forza then?”

“As long as I get the Toretto Charger,“ Cas began, with a flare of competition.

“Like hell, nice try!“ Sam scoffed.

“Fine then, we'll settle this like gentleman. Paper, Rock….”

As Dean retrieved Gozer and Gerald, Sam and Cas fussed over Charger dibs on the enormous sectional in front of a not cursed flat screen, settling in for their game. Evenings were a pleasant affair in the bunker, making the time pass quickly.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'With great power comes great responsibility." (Uncle Ben Parker, The Amazing Spiderman)  
> "Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn't mean they can't be saved." (Charles Xavier, X Men: Days of Future Past)
> 
> Each of the bunker pets are a different species entirely. Any guesses on "Gerald"?


	2. Chapter 2

December 8th

 

Dean awakened slowly from cozy dreams of cuddly, deeply satisfying sex which clung in his mind to the clouds of sleepy, dissipating fog. As much as he'd love going back to sleep, Cas was incredibly busy, silently extolling the virtues of morning love making, rather persuasively.

Dean adored how brilliantly expressive his husband was, such a far cry from the era when miscommunication was often the only language they spoke. Yet those first few days spent sealed in Betty the bunker, with no one save the two of them and Sam, before discovering its true purpose, Cas learned he could be quite loquacious, without speaking at all.

A spirited late night spent unable to keep their hands off each other meant a delicious early morning when Cas could slide right home. The sensation of being slowly stretched, while blanketed by warm skin, smelling of both fresh rain and starlight was the _only_ way to wake up, as far as Dean was concerned. Lovingly nudged over on his tummy, he felt the gentle tap on the hip to scoot up on his knees, giving Cas what they both wanted.

In these early morning romps, his husband’s labored breathing and soft sighs were songs of love. He accepted Cas's solid, steady promises to care for his every need. Tasting sweet vows on Cas's lips, they were promises to give himself over completely, trusting he was enough, and deserved to be cherished.

Each delectable push into their memory foam mattress, drove home Cas's enduring passion for him, even after all this time.

Mornings spent in such fervent, pure worship of each other, when Cas's hands were everywhere on him, reminded Dean he was  _saved._ As racing hearts slowed during peaceful recovery, Dean was held in Cas's light and love that never waned.

“Love you,” mumbled Dean in a whisper.

Low grumbles belonging to the once-angel burrowing further into his neck, buzzing with kisses, was all the “I love you more,“ Dean needed for a contented beginning to his day.

This routine never failed to bring forth bountiful emotion, so when they emerged from their room each morning, groggy and searching for coffee, Dean couldn't help but feel his cup already runneth over.

Watching Cas shuffle down the hall towards the kitchen foraging for coffee, he trudged in the opposite direction. Reaching another room in the corridor, he greeted its treasured inhabitants.

“Morning Gents, sleep alright?” he signed.

Gozer the Gozerian grinned widely, wagging his stump of a tail enthusiastically. Beside him on a toddler race car bed, patiently sat Gerald, Dean's fourteen year old Bornean Orangutan. He'd found him in unspeakable conditions while in 'other’ Borneo, hiding under a quickly flooding broken pier.

Gerald was gently petting Gozer, whom he cherished above all others, even Dean.

“Walk?” he signed to Dean.

“Sure, let's go.”

He extended his hand to Gerald, who took it while keeping his other hand on Gozer's back.

The three trotted to the garage, where Dean put Gozer's leash on, giving the loop to Gerald. Why was an orangutan walking a dog in the garage? Because they needed the exercise and it was a safe area Gerald could feel like he was peopling well by walking 'his' pittie.

Dean’s heart had melted seeing Gerald take to the terrified dog with incredible empathy. Each day he'd cautiously approached, doing his best to make Gozer feel welcome in the weird ass people palace. Now he flourished under the orangutan's ‘parental’ touch.

“Coffee, then I'll be back..” Dean signed and yawned, but Gerald and pup were already off.

He marveled at the orangutan's parental instincts, never guessing he'd desire such a role. Then again, he'd never thought Jack would've become like a son to him, Sam, and Cas either.

For years after leaving home, they’d studied the bible, all known accounts, including astronomical and astrological evidence. Over time, memorization and careful observations clued them in when the birth of another world's gifted figure was nearing, when they'd soon receive a rare soul born with the ability to heal it.

These births were what they continually looked for and traveled to witness. Each time Cas, along with the bunker's sensors, picked up particularly strong readings, Dean would have dreams and recall his last few moments with Jack, hoping they'd finally found him.

~*~*~*~

_December 10, 2018_

 

“ _N_ _othing_ will get through, save him. He's the key. I’ll watch over Earth, ensuring there's one you can come home to,” Billie promised in that unsettlingly calm demeanor of hers.

Jack must've seen such worry in his eyes, “Dean.. _Dad,_ please forgive me. I _know_ how much this is hurting you. I can feel it, you already carry so much other hurt inside.”

“Can't help it kid.”

“You have a lot of love too. For Sam of course, but..will you please tell Castiel? I've tried minding my own business, but you both are just so...stubborn.”

Dean was shocked, but then who was he kidding? They lived with an angelic empath for cryin’ out loud, they were damn lucky he'd also sensed it was a private matter. Precious seconds were ticking away, so Jack nudged...

“Promise me, please? At least for Sam's sake, you both have been making him very frustrated for a long time.”

“Oh well, fine kid, if it'll make _Sam_ happy..” Dean teased through sniffles and heartache, “I promise.”

“I have some things for you,” Jack proudly offered with satisfaction cracking through his stern face.

Dean regarded him quizzically, how was this a time for gifts? Jack hugged him, laying his head on Dean's shoulder. An ethereal warmth spread through him, melding with his very soul.

“What was that, Jack?”

“My hybrid soul. I'm dividing it between you, Sam, and Castiel,” revealed the nephil.

“Why..w-why would you do that?” Dean stammered in complete wonder.

Jack wistfully confessed, “You'll see..”

Accustomed to vague responses and explanations by celestials, Dean accepted his words and moved on.

“Jack, I'm so damn sorry,” he breathlessly cried, ”I've cared about so many people, everyone of them I failed and lost. Now you're going too…”

Jack bear hugged him, “History repeats itself Dean. 'All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again.' It's meant to remind us of what or _who_ we cannot change or save. Time isn't linear, it's cyclical. Your mind struggle with this, like so many other humans. But your soul is the most resilient I've seen, you relentlessly pursue what is right. For this reason, I give you dominion over humanity.”

“Are you shi-...I'm no leader, Jack! I can't keep anybody I love safe, the hell makes you believe I can or even should be in charge of _humanity,_ huh?”

“Maybe this is bad timing for a quote, but I feel like you should hear it anyways.”

Jack stepped back at arms length from him and delivered what he felt was so important for his father to hear. In a pleasant, yet firm tone he spoke as if imparting universal wisdom.

“Dean, ‘You will give the people an ideal to strive towards. They will race behind you, they will stumble, they will fall. But in time, they'll join you in the sun. In time, you will help them accomplish wonders.’”

Jack then smiled, having employed his favorite line from Jor-El to his Kryptonian son, words he felt would ring true for this father.. _in time._

Dean stood, stunned...unsure what to say or what to do.

“But we're out of time now. Listen carefully. This is important…”

Dean nodded, and listened intently to whatever it was Jack felt was so imperative.

“Cocooned within the swift, tilting galaxy 

_One is found, two depart, there stay three.”_

Dean regarded him with deep befuddlement and sorrow, but trusted Jack it would make sense in time.

~*~*~*~

December 8th

 

Later, Cas sat in the War Room with Sam and Dean.. oddly enough, playing a game of three way War. Dean gently pet Gerald's back as the beloved orangutan busied himself in the chair beside him, helping ‘collect and organize’ his cards, when Cas's attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. His eyes flared in a stunning silvery bluish glimmer, the radiance around the bunker flickered, then glowed a little more brightly.

“Something we need to check out?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Not yet, although it might be wise to consider preparing. I'm noticing a heliacal rising of Jupiter this morning to the east. Their aura band has also become more solid..a pale color, which yet, I'm unsure of.”

Sam went towards the dungeon with Gozer hot on his heels, no doubt retrieving vials and the chest. More often than not, when Cas proposed they ready themselves for an event, said event was indeed under way and they were glad of his foresight.

Dean watched Sam carefully set a beautifully carved chest made of gopher wood on the table. From his pocket, came three empty glass vials which he set next to the chest. Cas and Dean then stood next to Sam, holding their hands out for something which never ceased to amaze them, especially Dean.

Sam held a small, spherical crystal about the size of a golf ball, it was translucent save for the ethereal, amber grace slowly swirling like smoke within it. Each closed their eyes in concentration, withdrawing an infinitesimal wisp, which turned blue outside the sphere, placing it within each vial.

Next, each blew air out over their vial until a specific whistle tone, unique to each of them was met. The others watched on as a tiny part of their souls, which had been forever changed by Jack, was called forth from their mouths. Twisting, stretching until it found the bluish wisp, already in each vial, it shimmered when an eternal piece of themselves mixed with that of Jack's.

Sam cautiously took each vial, and placed them in the chest with the crystal sphere, containing a continually regenerating part of Jack's grace. It was only part of a ritual they'd been performing now, for the better part of eight hundred years.

The first several years after the bunker had revealed the last of its secrets, their goal to find Jack had kept them busy enough not to notice. But when fifteen, then twenty years had gone by, and the normal aches, pains, and wrinkles had yet to show themselves, Dean and Sam realized within Jack's nephil soul, resided immortality. It had its ups and downs to say the least. Yet, Dean wouldn't forsake a single moment of it spent with his husband.

After grabbing a beer, Dean comfortably sat in the kitchen with Sam and Gozer. Gerald was peacefully sandwiched in between he and Cas, an arm interlinked with each of theirs as and his head tiredly rested against Dean’s shoulder. They were each recalling their most memorable universes and some familiar faces they'd seen.

“Remember when it was Garth and Bess's house we wound up in for the delivery? That was really nice of them to help the girl out,” Sam laughed.

“I'm just glad they'd already said no to another litter! Christ almighty, poor guy. He was like a slightly happier version of Buscemi's character in Hotel Transylvania!” Dean chuckled, facepalming.

“I found it especially strange when it was Benny and, what's his wife's name?” Cas asked.

“Andrea. Glad they were together in that world. Benny always deserved better.”

“I didn’t expect to find a non vampire version of him in the Dominican Republic. It was a houseboat, but still….”

“He's happy somewhere, that's all that matters,“ Dean confessed. “Like that one little town in Switzerland, what was it called…”

“Neûchatel,” Sam answered.

“Yeah, finding Charlie there, with Dorothy in labor. The dad seemed like a great guy, really supportive. It's good to find some we lost get their happily ever after,” Dean issued thoughtfully.

Sam asked, “We've seen some pretty crazy AU’s. Do you have any favorites Cas?”

“Witnessing Jimmy and Amelia welcome a very special Claire was nice, a version of their lives not completely upturned. But um…” Cas paused, cheeks growing more red by the second, “my favorite will always be Waiheke Island.”

Dean's face instantly went hot, knowing he was bright pink. But he leaned over Gerald anyways, love sick idiot that he was, to plant a kiss on Cas's cheek. As usual, the orangutan refused to be left out of the loves and promptly hugged them both, then ventured over to Sam, who welcome him as he gave him a hug too.

“New Zealand, nice! _That’ll_ make the top of the list, it's one of my favs too,“ Sam grinned ear to ear. “Dean thought it was Hawaii…”

“Hey it looked like Hawaii! The name sounds kinda Hawaiian. And I seem to remember a convo you and I shared. Damn, feels like it was lifetimes ago-”

“Because it was!”

Cas tilted his head in extreme curiosity, a trait which never failed to render Dean a pile of goo. “What was?”

“One day,” Dean explained while getting up to grab more beer, “when I thought we could lay this life down for good, I told Sammy I dreamt about the three of us sitting on a beach, toes in the sand...Hula girls-”

“I'm impressed Dean, you got almost everything on that list-” Sam started to say.

“And some things that weren't on there, originally.”

“Like what?” Cas wanted to know.

“A husband,” Dean beamed with pride, “a brother to perform the ceremony.” He watched them both smile warmly.

“My pleasure guys. Oh and that Hula backfire was hilarious and pretty cool!” Sam snorted with glee.

Cas was again confused.

“Well they weren't exactly hula girls but…” Sam teased.

“Are you talking about the Maori?”

“Yep, those guys doing the Haka dance..I’ll admit, it was pretty awesome,” Dean concluded.

“Hey, how's Nova feeling by the way?” Sam queried of his brother in law.

Cas assured, “She's well, I think she's finished. Probably let her out tomorrow…”

 

After checking all the bunker’s sensors, then tucking Gozer and Gerald in for the night, Dean couldn't help but remember how happy they were that day on the beach. It’d been their two hundredth anniversary. Why they'd waited he'll never know.

“I'm still really happy you proposed Cas,” he said while happily kissing his way down his husband's chest and tummy and…

“I'm rea-r-... hmmm..really happpy..you said.. yousaidyesDean..…”

Both fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, wearing matching smiles.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You will give the people an ideal to strive towards. They will race behind you, they will stumble, they will fall. But in time, they'll join you in the sun. In time, you will help them accomplish wonders.” (Jor-El, Man of Steel)
> 
> "All of this has happened before, and all of this will happen again." (J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan)
> 
> Anyone confused yet? The aura band Cas is speaking of is something NASA actually uses to determine if a planet is inhabitable. It is a band of color around a planet which presents when another body directly passes in front of it. Based on the colors within this band, scientists can interpret which elements are present in the atmosphere which give them a rough guess as to if it could potentially support carbon based life. 
> 
> Also-  
> The heliacal rising or star rise of a star, star cluster, or galaxy occurs annually when it becomes visible above the eastern horizon for a moment before sunrise, after a period of less than a year when it had not been visible.(Wikipedia)


	3. Chapter 3

_December 14, 2018_

 

Four days passed since losing Jack. They should've felt some relief, yet sealed within the bunker, and no foreseeable means of exit, sounds of shouting, gunfire, explosions, more earthquakes, rain, snow, hail..what had Jack sacrificed himself for again?

Such was the soundtrack of their seventy two hour grief-slash-mournfest. On the fourth day, Cas helped the brothers tear the bunker apart in search of any lore or secret, _secret_ blueprints revealing a sacred, antiquated escape. He'd be fine, but knew Dean and Sam needed rest, showers, eventually food and clean water.

Dean mostly kept to his bedroom, door closed, silent as the grave. For in truth, this was a mass funeral. Sam roamed, refusing to accept that which was already befalling them. But Cas, knowing Dean always required space during such times, gave it to him, and in doing so felt more alone than he ever had in his incredibly long life.

Night fell, and with it an ache so severe, Cas had to do _something_ or he’d explode. He opted for the gun range as the brothers were likely sleeping, or trying. The design of the room would hopefully silence his rage fueled channelings.

After nearly twenty minutes staring down the end of a rapidly discharging Beretta, going through dozens of rounds, he felt Dean's presence in the room. Only then did Cas notice the extraordinarily rare tears falling from his cheeks like the shell casings raining down from his weapon, nearly crushed and bent, in his hand.

“Cas?” Dean spoke with a rough, cracking voice.

The hunter’s entire being brimmed with emotion, just below the surface. His eyes were filled with concern for him, an angel of the Lord with no identifiable earthly needs, when by rights, all concern should be focused on himself. _And yet..._ Cas was unable to hold the dam containing his emotions from bursting a second longer. Dean's worry over him was so great, it drew anger and grief out of him as if by some unseen force. Cas threw the gun down range, both watched it blast through the reinforced wall like mortar.

He felt himself catch the counter for balance, miserably confessing, “I'm the last of my kind….I'm alone.”

Dean rushed to his side, holding him in his trademark embrace. “Not alone Cas…”

Well, alright, yes. _Family. Brother._ Dean and Sam, even Jack, had given him so much more than he'd dared dream.

“You're my family Dean. I'm like Sam, a beloved brother, and I appreciate it more than you know.”

So Goddammit, why did it sound so obvious he struggled being a brother to Dean, and not something more?

Doubt showed on Dean's face. Fear. Overwhelming sadness at Cas's affirmation of the hunter’s own word for him. He’d said brother all those times, right? Or did he mean a cousin maybe? Human familial connections were too confusing to think on in that moment.

Dean shook his head and hung it, looking at his own hands, fiddling. Oh God, he'd misread, something nowhere near brother, something far less? Second cousin, thrice removed? This was too damn much. He needed to retrieve that gun, _yesterday._

“Not brother, Cas…... more like..husband.”

“W-what?”

“We've been so busy all these years failing people, fighting things. It took me losing everyone to realize I have everything.”

He was stunned. Was he hearing Dean right? _Husband_. He's finally cracked. Dean’s lost his marbles from the stress.

“I’ve been in love with you for years Cas. You're not alone, never will be, and I don't want to spend another second without you.”

He wasn't sure if Dean had anything else to say because he'd cut him off with an earth shattering kiss. It might've been the earth actually shaking, shattering around them, he wasn't sure. And he'd apologize later for interrupting him, but nothing else mattered in that moment except them, finally releasing all these devastating longings they'd had for a solid decade.

A whirlwind later, they were in Dean's room, the door slammed shut. It'd be another three days before re-emerging, Dean nearly twelve pounds lighter, his room utterly destroyed. When Sam asked Dean, with extreme awkwardness if he was “good,” Castiel sensed it may’ve been the first time in the younger Winchester's life he'd ever believed Dean's “Yeah, I'm good,” so completely. Sam pushed a plate of food and water at him, which he accepted without complaint. Then the three really got to work.

~*~*~*~

December 9th

 

Cas awakened from the dream he so often experienced, when Dean finally confessed his feelings and their lives changed for the better. Yet it wasn't the dream itself which had brought him back to consciousness. Lying there so contentedly with his husband, he listened to thoughts, analyzed them carefully. Then without a word of warning, shot out of bed and zapped into the War Room instantaneously, throwing on some pajama pants he'd managed to grab, lest Sam be awake, perusing the bunker.

He stood unbelievably still for several minutes, carefully monitoring the goings on of the universe, and the particular world they'd been keeping an eye on. He alone possessed the unique ability to watch and listen as the stars conversed above their bunker home, while also listening simultaneously to everything important within the bunker itself.

Satisfied he was correctly interpreting the star chatter from the vastness beyond the confines of home, he was about to speak with Dean, who approached from behind. The bunker’s sensors and instruments suddenly began a cacophony of loud alerts. Cas turned to face Dean, when he did so his eyes lit up as an enormous flicker occurred within the secure radiance surrounding the bunker.

“Red alert on the U.S.S. Enterprise, Spock?” Dean groggily snarked.

“You could call it that, Good morning Dean.”

Dean nodded and turned his head, “Hey Sammeh!!!! Oh-”

“Yah, I'm on it. You don't have to shout,” the flying Moose grumbled on his way past Dean over to the instrument panels.

“Starting a scan for the mother, but everything here indicates the birth is likely still a few hours off. What about you Cas?” Sam asked, silencing the alerts one by one.

“The aura band... it's never been this pale before. And never fluctuated back within the darker color spectrum after settling and solidifying. Yesterday it was almost a pale white. This morning it's,yellow.” Cas was most certainly thrown by this anomaly.

He could swear the band, just minutes ago when last he looked, was the same precise shade of yellow as Jack's, when his nephil eyes would flare. Reluctant to give hope prematurely, he opted to process the possibility elsewhere.

“I agree about the birth, I'll check on Nova, maybe get her out for a bit beforehand.”

He ambled through the garage towards a corner with a very large cage, holding a lively, beautiful, Saw-whet owl.

“Good Morning Nova, are you feeling better now?”

She clicked her beak in response, which was indeed better than silence, indicating mild discomfort during her molt. Her brown and white spotted feathers ruffled and puffed while Cas opened the cage. Once out, she hopped on to his arm, then his shoulder, leaning her wide, kitten like face in front of his to regard him.

“I've missed you too Nova. More than you know…” he softly cooed at her.

She'd been a tiny owlet, weakened with sickness and broken wings when he'd found her in 'other’ Minnesota. Evidence immediately surrounding her, indicated a tremendous struggle from her mother endeavoring to protect her young against a much larger bird of prey.

Now, as she pushed off his extended arm for flight, he couldn't help thinking of Jack, how he missed him even more after so long, and what they had discussed before parting.

~*~*~*~

_December 10, 2018_

 

“Jack, there has to be another way. You were meant to save this world.”

“Like a superhero?” Jack stated calmly, then questioningly at the end.

“That's..an apt parallel yes.” Cas was now confused as to Jack's sudden fixation on the hero subject.

“ ‘I can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood’.”

“There would be if you'd let the Avengers and Justice League duct tape and super glue it for now,” Cas pleaded.

Jack smiled so sweetly when raising his hands to wiggle his wrists and fingers. “And yet, I'm the one with the self generating super adhesive. This is what I will do. Maintain the web of life, a circle holding it all together in one form or another.”

“Holding it together wasn't your purpose. Saving it was.”

“This is how it's saved Castiel. This is my purpose. You've always had difficulty with it. The other angels knew theirs, they just never questioned if it was correct. You struggle to see your purpose, yet _always_ try to do what is right.”

He hugged Castiel who slumped in his arms, knowing his words were true and despaired even more. But a warm tingly feeling spread throughout his body. It became hot and bright, flashing brilliantly. Then, it was over.

“What have you done, Jack?” Cas begged, looking over his hands and fingers, even down at his feet in wonderment.

“I gave you an upgrade, but don't worry, it's a flexible one. Your true form is amazing, Father. It's brighter than any angel's grace. I've made you a star now, able to steadily guide any who seek their true path. This is why I'm giving you dominion over Heaven. You will show angels it's alright to take time finding their purpose, because doing what is right along the way, will always lead them to it.”

Cas couldn't find a good argument and remained silent, completely astonished by both Jack's words and gift. Although he wished there was something more effective he could say to change Jack's mind.

“It's time for you to go Castiel. Thank you for caring for me, when very few wanted to. Thank you for protecting my mother, when everyone hunted her. Remember these words, they are of great import.”

“Oh?”

“ _Observe me once by loss, thrice by sight. Hold hope which sprang from perilous night.”_

Of course Castiel squinted his eyes in wonderment. “Is..that supposed to be a riddle?” he puzzled.

“I give of myself, so one day I will return.”

~*~*~*~

December 9th

 

All three bunker pets watched curiously as preparation was coming to a close. Cas greatly appreciated how well they knew when spectating over “helping” was best. Gerald sat on the fourth step of the War Room staircase beside Gozer, who contentedly allowed Nova to perch on his head while wearing his adorable trademark expression of _I smile because I don't know what's going on._

Cas felt Dean lace their fingers together and cup his cheek with the other hand. His husband leaned in to touch foreheads and request in a comforting whisper, “Teach me about the language of the stars, Cas.”

He smiled, they'd gone round and round about this for several hundred years. For some reason the subject rendered Dean a soft, mushy changeling in his arms.

“C’mon Starman, what are they saying tonight? Hmm? What's it like..to understand them?” Dean asked, nuzzling his nose.

Cas smiled at how insatiably captivated Dean remained with star language. Human language never gripped his interest, yet something literally so otherworldly had him continually prodding for expansion on the matter.

“They’re telling me the conjunction from before won’t occur again in at least another sixteen thousand years. And for possibly the millionth time...the only way I can describe it to you in a way you might almost comprehend.. it's like mixing the sense of sight with osmosis,” he answered, with enduring patience in his voice.

“Hmmm. So a kind of vision that melds into you…” Dean hummed.

“Mmhmm, “ Cas murmured back.

“I wish I could meld into you too. ‘ _I’ll stop the world and meld with you.. there's nothing you and I won't do...you've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time.”_ Dean softly crooned, slightly changing the lyrics to the song by Modern English.

“I love how you never stop trying,” Cas light heartedly chuckled.

“There's worse ways to spend eternity,“ Dean asserted just before kissing Cas, nudging his back against the War/library entry frame.

 

Memories of when Dean and Sam first learned of their altered mortality status flooded back to Cas. For the ex-angel, it’d never been an existential crisis. However, for the brothers whose nature dictated birth, life, and death..he watched as the initial realization took a tremendous toll. He felt a depression blanketing their home for a time, and tried grasping it from their perspective.

Looking forward to a peaceful rest after what they considered a long life, and for them a very rough life, made things more bearable. With this endgame respite no longer in the cards, Cas could understand their despair when faced with the prospect of a never ending existence.

Dean raged against it for weeks, while Cas silently remained by his side when his soul craved presence, and let him be when it yearned for solitude. Finally, when Dean had started down a more serious spiral, Cas decided to employ sexual distraction. To his delight, it was a useful release valve, which allowed Dean to focus on the beautiful things he could fill his eternity with.

He still went through periods of distress, Sam had dubbed them his mid-centennial crisis, where Dean would rant, bitch, and complain about his eternal Quantum Leap slash Whovian lifestyle. But Cas was right there reminding him he'd always be the Al Calavicci to Dean's Sam Beckett.. _with benefits._

That usually snapped him out of it, seeing as Dean loved an occasion to express how much more handsome Cas was than the actor Dean Stockwell. These mid-centennial outbursts were typically followed by a minimum, three day demonstration of what Dr. Sam and Admiral Al should've been doing offscreen.

Living in such close quarters also allowed Cas to grow closer with Sam. He'd always held the younger Winchester in high regard and over time, developed a strong, warm love for him. Once, when Dean needed some space, he'd sat with Sam, gently inquiring if he lamented not having any romantic companionship.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Sam affirmed, “ maybe if I'd had someone before we left... Hopefully if, _when_ we get back, there's still some good people holding down the fort. If there are, I'm open to seeing what happens.”

Cas smiled, pleased with Sam's hopeful view, and wished..well..upon himself, that he'd indeed find a soul with which to share a powerful connection.

“In the meantime, Dean archived more porn than Chuck himself knows what to do with. I'm good,” Sam offered, laying any concerns to rest with genuine amusement.

 

All too quickly, Cas was succumbing to the throes of passion his husband so frequently and deliciously assaulted him with. His vessel’s senses were firing off like a rocket in rapid ascent as Dean pressed and undulated against him.

“You guys can Bone-a-thon when we come back, we've got work to do,” quipped a nearly unfazed Sam.

He could feel Dean's emotional and physical disappointment while pulling away, mirroring his own. So Cas pulled him in close one last time and rumbled next to his ear so when he spoke, Dean could feel an electric buzz all down his spine and leg.

“You may not understand the stars Dean, but when we come back later tonight, I'll make sure you come so hard you see them spinning.”

The effect these promises had on Dean was so very pleasing for Cas to watch. The hunter went positively weak in the knees, and wore a comically glazed expression while adjusting himself and squelching the unbound desire he'd displayed seconds earlier.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever. Let's do this,” Dean huffed good naturedly with a wink.

Cas took in how gingerly Sam brought out the chest made of gopher wood and gave each vial to its owner. Then he also passed two differently sized cases, made of the same gopherwood, to Cas and Dean, retaining one for himself.

Despite eight hundred years having gone by, none of them could boast success in cracking their portions of Jack's bizzaro prophecy. However, pride and exhilaration swelled in Cas each time they completed the ritual which Sam had thought to create and offer at each birth they witnessed. Sam had been inspired by Jack's parting words to Castiel.

_“I give of myself, so one day I will return.”_

Cas always inspected the tops of each box, which had a circular opening Dean had drilled and filled with the body of a bullet primer and its casing, acting as an easily removable plug.

Sam’s box resembled one the size in which someone might place an engagement ring. Dean's was perhaps a little smaller than a standard sized Rubik's cube. Cas's was rectangular and easily the size of a pen case. Each box held something of material and symbolic value, and as the three pulled out their casings, and poured the mixture of Jack's grace combined with the small portion of their unique souls, the items contained within were infused and blessed in a sense.

Cas placed the boxes safely in backpacks stuffed with other necessities they'd learned to prepare for, while Dean checked the War Room panel sensors for changes or variances from previous readings.

“Skies clear Cas?” Sam asked.

Becoming a star hadn’t been as difficult an adjustment as when he'd become human. With time, he'd discovered how to transfer his consciousness between vessel and star form. He even learned to divide it among the two so he could be inside, participating in family life. Simultaneously he could remain outside, scanning for dangers and conversing with stars in each universe they visited.

Giving the quickly approaching event undivided focus, his eyes flared brightly as his mind traveled completely away from the man he was inside the bunker, to the radiant sphere outside it which safely, lovingly encased his home and family.

Once fully anchored within his celestial form, he scanned for the wave which allowed him to search and identify the world the sensors inside were already dialed into like an office rolodex. The bunker could read many things, for example, where an AU world approaching their event was located and the specific kinds of grace it contained, if any.

But it couldn't read some of the more vital details of the event, which included the physical and emotional state in which the mother was surrounded. It couldn't tell them if they’d be sliding into an advanced, peaceful civilization or war torn, barbaric antiquity. Although Cas could, either by peering through the universe walls with a direct gaze, or politely “dialing in”, canvasing the local sphere community about known activities.

He directly gazed this time, impatient to learn about the significance of previously odd occurrences. Drawing in his focus, channelling it as precisely as he could, feelings of urgency washed through him. Further focus provided him vague flashes of current unfoldings. He could almost see the mother, and sensed rushed panic. Something had changed or..sped up.

Cas immediately flashed himself back inside the bunker. His eyes flared so brightly the brothers threw their hands up, shielding their eyes.

“Woah! Thanks for the supernova Rainbow Brite!”

Cas didn't even bother with an eye roll. “We need to make the jump _now!_  Her water broke. Her companion is seeking assistance, but rushing in unsafe weather conditions. She's unable to calm herself, and the elevated stress is beginning to cause a harmful environment for the baby.“

“Locking in the universe coordinates now. Looks liiiike...we've got it!” Dean hollered in satisfaction. “There's faint readings of grace. Not many. But one really strong pulse, huh...wait a- oh, you gotta be kidding me!”

“What? Dean!” Sam demanded.

Cas studied Dean, his respiratory rate, his blood pressure, the way he hung his head in attempt to calm a great swelling of emotion.

“It's Downs. She's in Downs...I can count the number of miles on one hand how close she is to Lebanon. It’s _home_ Sammy _.._ not ours but.. _”_ he wavered, stifling a cry.

Never had they jumped to a location within another world in such close proximity to where home actually was. The air around Cas was tangibly electrified by the blasts of grief, loss, panic, and unrestrained hope hemorrhaging from the brother’s souls.

“Alright, uh..start the jump Dean!” Sam urged.

But he was already on it. “Cas, buckle up out there. I'm gonna Sulu this bitch!”

In a flash Cas was outside, holding them in light, warmth, and security, while his vessel rested under the watchful eye of his husband. He could still feel much of what was occurring within. As the bunker environment crackled with energy, Dean was throwing switches and twisting dials. He remembered whenever Dean declared a sci fi night, scenes such as this on tv and in movies usually depicted them with thrilling alerts and unnecessarily loud engine revolutions.

Their reality however, yielded no violent shaking, no loud whirring, or dramatic energy surges. As fantasy as their lives seemed, Cas reflected on how surprisingly quiet this form of travel was.

A few weeks after being sealed inside back home, the bunker sigils had begun flickering violently. Then a few days later it sounded like all hell had broken loose inside as alarms, sensors, and instruments which had remained silent and assumedly dead, were blinking, flashing, and turning.

Through trial and error, and brilliant intuition on Dean's part to interpret and translate the language of mechanical engineering, he began to realize the entire bunker was in a sense _talking_ to them. It was revealing its true purpose, guiding them to discover it was in fact a _vessel_ , built to generate highways to alternate universes without the need of grace, archangel or otherwise. She valiantly forged her way through every cosmos in proud silence, indomitable strength, and unfailing resilience. Of course Dean _had_ to give her a name.

“You good Cas?!” he heard Dean yelling at him.

He twinkled his luminescence in response, and could hear the driven laughter inside.

“Almost got’em Sammy! Taking back roads mostly, it's 11:37 pm. Jesus Christ! Who the fuck is driving?! They’re flying like Death’s on their tail riding a warp drive. I wanna kick their ass for moving like that with a pregnant woman inside! Okay..plotting trajectory...c'mon c'mon Betty..you haven't failed us yet. There’s a few fields around...if we could jump there we'll have a chance at slowing them down to a safer speed. Aaaaannnd ..BINGO!”

“PUNCH IT!” Sam bellowed.

Betty's lights went out during the jump, as usual. Through the slide it was calm, still, and the light show from outside, thanks to Cas clearing up visibility, was like no place on Heaven or Earth. Dean sat beside his husband's vessel, holding his hand, while Sam took a seat across the table. Streams and striations within every shade of color on the spectrum zoomed past Betty, pulsating at them like bystanders spectating at the Formula 1.

It never ceased to amaze Dean, Sam, and even Cas how thrilling yet unbelievably serene the slides were, from jump to jump. When the colors began mixing, taking on a more solid shade of the aura band in the target world's atmosphere, is when they knew the jump was nearly complete.  

Immediately a strong golden yellow began surrounding them. Although Cas's eyes fluttered open, this time only a faint glow lingered, as the color disappeared into the darkness swathing their home.

“Cas? What's wrong?” Dean stilled with mind numbing alarm.

Far up in the night sky, they could see a diamond white light faithfully watching them.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I can’t be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood." (Peter Parker, Avengers: Infinity War)


	4. Chapter 4

 

December 9th

 

“Cas?!” Dean asked again with panic rising in his throat.

“I'm fine, “ he reassured Dean.

“Then why is most of you up there, huh?”

A strange, vague expression came over him when he said, “I’m having a feeling, it might be wise to reserve most of my form above for now. My light seems stronger there, it might be helpful,” he explained.

“How does _not_ having your mojo seem helpful?”

“It’s difficult to explain. I’m sorry.”

Dean eyed him suspiciously and received a confident kiss to soothe his worry.

Sam cloaked the bunker with a spell, Dean grabbed their packs, and Cas locked up, leaving Gozer, Gerald, and Nova securely behind. They began trudging into the chilly, muddy field towards the road pointing at neon lights of civilization in the distance, and they were welcomed with a miserable, steady drizzle. Thankfully though, Cas was right about keeping a majority of himself in the sky. On a cloudy, cold night, he was the only visible star and his shine was so resplendent they didn't even need flashlights.

Straight away, they gathered from building styles, makes and models of the few visible cars, and various advertisements, that this was the American Midwest, approximately in the late 1960’s or early 1970’s. One very big difference however, was the language.

“The writing here is so strange,” Sam observed.

“I've never even seen it,” Cas concurred, “but we’ve visited worlds with languages so bizarre you've wanted to verify we hadn't jumped to an entirely different planet.”

No matter how weird though, one constant Dean enjoyed was food. He experienced an oddly comforting sensation when glancing up at a square neon sign, shining white with a familiar picture inside of a red clown popping out of a red box.

Something niggled at him, on the fringes of recognition in his mind, but they had to be on their toes for a snowball's chance in hell at slowing the car down before something awful happened.

“They should be coming right through here any time now, according to your readings Dean,“ Sam remembered.

“And coming they are,” he replied, pointing to a pair of headlights in the distance approaching with worrisome speed.

All three waited as the car raced towards them along the water slicked main road. However, before they could even raise their hands to signal at the speeding car, they stared in horror as the driver lost control.

“No no no no NO!!” the brothers yelled.

The vehicle went violently somersaulting off the road, hurdling, flipping over and over and over. It finally stopped when a telephone pole broke its tumultuous path. The car slammed into the pole with such force, a massively loud energy burst ripped through the quiet night. The wooden pole itself was snapped almost clean through at the point of impact, falling on surrounding wires, sending sparks down the lines in a threatening display, promising further disaster.

Without delay Sam and Dean were sprinting towards Cas, who’d teleported to the car.

“Are they conscious? Breathing?” Sam gasped.

They could see the odd angle in which it was positioned against the broken telephone pole. For now, the car was propping it up. In due time though its crushing weight, already weakening the four doors hold, would flatten both automobile and its inhabitants.

Just as they reached the car, a roar from several yards away broke their attention. Already a fire had started from sparks down the lines jumping, landing on the roof of a barn some yards off.

“Dean! We need to check out the barn!” Sam insisted.

“What? It's wood! These are people Sam!”

“No, Sam's right, I can hear animals inside already in distress. Can you manage here until we come back?”

“I’ll do my best to help. Can you though, with almost all your go-juice in atmo? Is it too far?”

“It won't come as quickly, but yes.”

Cas teleported Sam in front of the barn, the entire roof was engulfed in flames, now beginning to lick down the structure’s sides. Screams from horses trapped inside, terrified, pleading barks from dogs pawing and scratching at the doors, charged the already adrenaline fueled emotional climate.

Cas threw aside the heavy wooden beam making the animals escape impossible, and Sam yanked the doors open, freeing a Labrador and Malinois.

Three horses were imprisoned in their stalls where sections of wood and ash were beginning to rain from the ceiling. They wasted no time unlocking them and urging them outside, where two of the horses lingered, breathing the fresh air.

“Cas wait!” Sam called.

He turned to see what was more important than getting back to Dean and the injured passengers.

“Don't you recognize that horse?” he shouted, pointing to the Paint, bearing an unusual mark between its eyes.

“Now's not the time Sa-” he stopped in an inconvenient moment of _I-know-this-horse!_

“This is the horse that won the Triple Crown back in 2016,” Cas verified.

“The one you were obsessed with and made us watch when you thought Dean was some horse enthusiast because of how many westerns he watched…”

“Yes, that was before I knew he watched for the cowboys, _not_ the horses.”

Sam had something on his mind, gears were turning but hadn't quite spit out the implication or relevance of it, due to the urgency of the situation.

Cas sighed, “Be Nimble, Be Quick was a wonderful horse. Glad to see him here doing well.”

Sam then furrowed his brows in concentration. Cas did the same, as if some thought he'd been trying to recall was frustratingly evading him.

They were almost back to Dean, when they got close enough to see his face, they instantly slowed to a stop. It was bone white, as if he'd seen a ghost and as he shakily leaned on the front passenger door his shirt was so saturated with blood it spilled down the front of his jeans.

“Oh my God, how bad is it Dean?”

He tried to reply, but seemed overcome with emotion. When he found his voice again, all he could indicate was, “There’s a little girl in the car, she's conscious but got a whopping goose egg on her forehead. We need to get her out fas-”

Sam was already pawing through the back window to pull her out.

Cas's wide eyed attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. Dean turned around anxiously, looking for the source of surprise.

Out in the field, coming from the direction of Bumfuck, Nowhere was a man, shorter in stature than themselves, but one with whom the three had shared a brief familiarity back home, years before leaving.

“A-Aaron?” they all spilled in confusion.

His name, acknowledged in unison by the three strangers, took him slightly aback, although not as much as it should have. Something else about him was different, yet simultaneously recognizable.

Aaron stated something in a language Sam and Dean had heard before, yet didn't speak themselves.

“He says,'I didn’t expect you to already know my name'. Uhh..we didn't really..expect you at all, “ they heard Cas replied to him in the same tongue and then translate again.

“Sam, Dean, he's-,” Cas began explaining in English.

“A nephil, yeah we can feel it radiating off of him,” Sam interrupted, stunned, by the look of it.

“Which we can do how, exactly?” Dean followed up, with equal shock.

“Take a nougat flavored guess,” Sam painfully concluded.

“He's a bit more than-” Cas began as he touched Aaron's arm.

“Half actually,” Aaron suddenly clarified in English, although he himself was wondering a few things, “How am I understanding you?”

Cas lightly gripped his arm, “I have certain..abilities.”

Aaron offered to take the girl from Sam so he could help Dean and Cas. As Sam peered into the weirdly angled wreck to assess what he could do, he felt the blood drain from his face at who he saw.

“Mom!!” he yelled.

She was only able to open one eye, the other was swollen and bleeding from a vicious head injury.

“Mom!”

Sam ran over to her, even though she was a much younger version of who they knew, they'd never met another version of her.

“Who's driving, Dean?” Sam asked.

Dean looked at him pointedly, “It's Dad!”

Not their father who'd made the deal with Azazel, but the version who’d let him persuade and convince that a 1967 Impala was the better choice. The version who Michael had possessed, and suddenly Dean was filled with heartache and rage.

Michael was the one who’d come through and fucked up their world. Michael was the one who had promised to exit and didn't. And Michael was the one who had taken their brother Adam, ridden him to hell, and tortured him with Lucifer until his soul disintegrated.

“Sammy, it's Dad! He's hurt! Get over there!”

Cas lay a hand on Dean, he’d already been on the driver's side and quietly conveyed through their silent communication that his father was already gone.

“Dean …..” he could hear the additional confirmation in his brother’s voice.

“It's..I know. Nevermind, we've got to get Mom and this kid out of the car!”

Sam stepped out of the way, so they could begin their efforts. He glanced at an object the little girl was clutching tightly, while still quiet in Aaron's arms. Peering at it closely, he found it was a board book, the white front cover had been tore halfway, but it didn't matter as the alphabet was like nothing he'd ever seen.

The part of the picture that was visible showed an unmistakable giant descending an overgrown beanstalk. Before a thought could fully form, Dean was shouting.

“Mom! Wake up! Don't fall asleep! No! Cas!”

Cas knew exactly what was happening, yet there was no possible way he could obtain enough grace and starlight to make a difference in time. And harsh as it felt, his power needed to be reserved for the baby, should it become necessary.

Mary was fighting to hang on, she was barely pushing, yet Dean lifted her skirt to see the crowning. He knew something was very, very wrong. Mary groaned, barely conscious minutes later as she issued a little girl into this world.

Sam had brought a kit they'd put together over the years when arriving for births fraught with unforeseen peril. Dean held the little girl while Cas tied off and cut the cord, then wrapped her in a towel and gave her to Aaron, who’d handed the four year old girl to Sam, and was waiting patiently to do anything asked of him.

Dean tried for several minutes to keep his mother awake and focused on him, despite her not having a clue who he was besides some helpful stranger. All of sudden her body began tensing again, and little grunts pushed past her lips in short sequences.

“Can the afterbirth be this stressful?” he asked Cas, who stood beside him through the ordeal.

“Not typically.”

Mary's eye was roaming all over her decreased field of vision, as if searching for someone.

“I'm here Mo- Mary.. it's okay I'm here.” Dean had no idea if she could understand or even hear him.

Cas was saying something to her in another language, the same he'd spoken to Aaron.

“It's alright Mary. Blessed Mother, rest now. Your children are safe with angels watching over them, and will be raised with the purest love.”

“Is that..Hebrew?” Dean finally asked, wiping blood off Mary's face.

“Yes, but a far older dialect than was spoken back home. Their written language though, is completely different than our Earth's-Dean!”

“What? Cas..what?”

“Sam, give me the kit and another towel! Now!” Cas insisted. “Dean, she's not passing afterbirth, she’s having another baby!”

Sam was holding the girl so he grabbed a backpack and tossed it to Cas.

Mary was giving everything to hang on, this baby was coming faster. Dean could see the kid crowning and pushing, his mother so spent she was helpless to do anything but miraculously keep her own heart beating long enough so he or she could get out. This one was a fighter, battling simply to be born against impossible odds.

The second the baby was clear, Dean held him so Cas could tie and cut the cord, this time he placed the little boy on her chest so she could feel his heart beating, as hers weakened and slowed.

With her last breath, she spoke in a whisper while looking directly at Dean. “ _Jack_.”

Dean's eyes widened and filled with tears.

“What? Mom no. Dammit! Come back!”

Cas reached across Dean to take the little boy his mother had christened “Jack”, with her dying breath. He wrapped him in another towel, holding him close, drawing a little power from his form above.

The barn was nearly burnt to the ground, though the dogs and two of the horses had lingered on despite the threat of spreading flames. How odd.

“No...no way..it ... no it can't be! Aaron, what is this? Cas, come here and translate! Come here guys, and look at the car!”

“Not exactly in the mood to admire automotive craftsmanship right now!” Dean snarled.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Sam boomed in uncharacteristic impatience.

Briskly walking over, Cas and Dean turned their eyes to the chrome lettering which was unknown to them.

“Aaron, what does this lettering here say?” Cas queried in Hebrew, touching his arm again.

Aaron stepped forward, cradling the baby girl close for warmth. “Galaxie Starliner.”

Cas’s breath hitched as he translated.

“No..what. What? How could I have missed this?” Dean asked, more of himself than anything.

“You were busy helping. We all were,” Cas replied.

“Did you guys see or notice anything else kind of weird tonight?” Dean wondered, sniffling, but trying to keep himself from becoming a blubbering mess.

“Weird like how?” Sam shifted, pulling a rain poncho out of a pack.

Aaron piped up with a remark that had Cas’s jaw dropping to the ground. When asked for clarification, he continued on for several minutes and Cas's incredulous state continued to increase.

“What's he saying?” Sam wanted to know.

“He said he was happy to have made it here on time. It seems not only was this event foretold in our world by Jack, the prophecy we know is but a small portion of its entirety here.”

Aaron touched Cas and politely interrupted, “This boy, he is part of our prophecy. One foretold thousands of years ago. I think he's Bar Kokhba.”

“Who?!” Cas nearly yelled.

“Bar Kokhba. In Aramaic it means, ‘Son of a Star’. I know astronomy, and this star,” he said pointing to in-atmo Cas, unbeknownst to him, “doesn't belong here. It came the same time that building did way over there,” Aaron pointed at the bunker..the one supposed to be cloaked. “This little one, Jack..this is what his mother named him? He is her son, born under its star..a star which arrived for him, to take him.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

December 9th

 

Everyone was extraordinarily overwhelmed. Unbeknownst to Aaron, Jack had called him Father. In a sense, he was Castiel's son and had also made him a star. But this hadn't occurred to any of them while puzzling over it. All this time they'd assumed Jack meant sun.

“A binary sun born under its star...binary…he has a twin,” Sam realized, “that qualifies.”

“Received by vessels from near and far, “ Dean recited aloud, ”Aaron has an immortal vessel. I guess so do we, Cas fits the bill. And Betty's a vessel..that fulfills the near and far.”

“Did you say we were taking him, how did you know?” posed Cas.

“Yes, it's part of our prophecy. Two gifted figures will be born to this world, one to prepare the way for the second. The first will stay for this world, the second will leave for another. I was born twenty five years ago, this field and several others belong to my family,” explained Aaron.

“We missed it...we missed your birth. It's impossible to be everywhere all at once. But that's why there was the triple conjunction..the aura band was off sync because two were to be born here, but the second hadn't yet arrived,” Cas surmised.

Dean began muttering his part of the prophecy repeatedly. “Cocooned within a swift, tilting galaxy..the galaxie all along was a friggin’ car! Unbelievable.”

“It tilted swiftly,” Sam said, his voice wavering, “so that also qualifies, and our parents, their daughter, the babies..all were cocooned, contained within the Galaxie,” Sam contributed.

“One is found, two depart, there stay three...Mary and John are departed. Sam, Dean..I'm so very sorry,” Cas whispered, knowing exactly how painful this was for them. “I wanted to help, but something in me knew my light needed to be up there.”

They stood in silence for a few moments, then Dean offered, “Jack told me history repeats itself, and can show us who can’t be saved no matter how hard we try.” He took a second, then continued, “One found, they can't be found unless they were lost. We lost Jack, Mom..Mary named this kid Jack. Wait a second..there stay three? Aaron?”

Aaron stood, holding the baby girl and gestured for the little one in Sam's arms.

“We can't separate them!” Sam gasped.

“Sam,” Dean growled, “We haven’t spent eight hundred years roaming all of existence to go home empty handed over a moral qualm! We literally can't! The prophecy was specific, ONE is found, not two. You wanna Dr. Who yer ass back here later for some playdates, then knock yerself out..we're leaving..get it through your head!”

Aaron's face instantly turned to shock. “Eight hundred years? Wait..what? Tell me more about that star! Where are you from?”

“In your particular dialect, you would pronounce our world as _Aur-y-Ent_ ,” Cas enunciated carefully.

He went on to explain how he'd been turned into a star by their Jack, and how long they'd been traveling to find him.

“Is this normal evolution for angels in your world?”

Cas uncomfortably responded, “Um..no. As far as I know, I'm the only one. In any universe, at least so far. Why?”

Aaron smiled while tears of joy spilled down his cheeks. “I can't wait to tell my family! You embody a story, so very precious to us Jews. Here in our world, we celebrate the miracle of enduring light. The Shamash.”

“Well, yes..we have.. _had..._ this celebration in our world too but-”

“You were strong and guided them didn't you? A rarity. Like a candle, oil, you defied the purpose you were created for.”

Dean interjected with, “Yeah oooh boy did he _ever.”_

“And your impossible journey took far longer than expected, yet your light endured and guided you three here. Our own miracle of light will become all the more meaningful to us because of your story. Because it's tied to him, Jack!”

All three were so stunned they couldn't move, let alone speak.

“I’ve been preparing for this event my entire life. Let me assure you, my family and I will give the girls a good home. They'll be very loved,” professed Aaron.

“But they’ve lost so much tonight, “ Sam lamented with tears. It was obvious how severely conflicted he felt over it, but deep down he knew they had to leave the two sisters behind.

“So have you,” Cas articulated. “The three of us lost everyone centuries ago. This world is stable, it has Aaron. With Jack we can rebuild, this is what it can become again.”

“Observe me once by loss…” Dean asked himself. “Thrice by sight...observe _me.._ me is Jack...anybody else see things associated with his name? I'm pretty sure that was a random ass Jack in the Box down the street.”

“She's holding a Jack and the Beanstalk board book,“ Sam indicated of the girl he was holding, ”Oh my God! And the Triple Crown horse! _Jack_ Be Nimble, _Jack_ Be Quick!”

“Holy crap! How was this stuff so literal! But wait, we already lost him...observe me once by loss..”

“He lost his mother, she observed, witnessed him, named him, and then he lost her. It's referring to _his_ loss, not ours,” Cas clarified. “Hold hope which sprang from perilous night. He's the hope for our world, and if anything, tonight's been perilous.”

To drive the point home, fate decided in that moment the telephone pole was DONE.

“We've got to get them out Sammy, c'mon!”

In an instant, the wires above finally snapped from the weight of the pole. Cas teleported Dean, the baby, and himself away to where Sam and Aaron were safely standing, milliseconds before it collapsed and crushed the car.

Cas walked over to him again, placing his hand on the nephil's arm.

“Everyone okay?” Aaron asked moments later.

Their hearts were racing, heavy with painful emotional burden, but there was also now great hope.

“Yeah..we're good,” Dean gruffed after hearing Cas translate.

“Where is your family? If this event is so special, why didn't they come?” Sam politely prodded.

“Nephilim, over all, are feared. Very few still exist. I'm only half and can pass as mostly human. My father’s taught me many things, that's one of them. We favor a quiet life and try to stay under the radar. They thought it might draw less attention from other angels, if any were nearby.”

“Guys, we need to go. Someone’ll notice the barn..the fire is spreading,” Sam pointed out.

“May I give Jack something?” Aaron cautiously asked.

Cas was curious as to what Jack might need, aside from diapers and food. “Yes.”

Aaron touched baby Jack's forehead, both of their eyes shone with a soft silvery blue glow.

“What was that for?” Dean asked.

“He saved your world, sacrificing himself. I wanted to give of _myself_ , so he can regenerate his grace more quickly and return with strength.”

“Thank you Aaron. For everything. We'd like to reciprocate, if that's alright?” Sam gently asked.

Aaron was already so honored to have played his part in his world's prophecy, but answered yes.

Sam took out his box from the backpack. “We’re sorry about missing your birth. But we still want to give you a few things. They're symbolic in our world, yet contain the grace of our Jack along with mixtures of his hybrid soul and ours. This a valuable element in our world, in most worlds we visit. It's traditionally intended for Kings.”

Aaron was very flustered, in awe, and the moment he touched the box Sam gave him his eyes flared yellow, then blue.

“Thank you. I'm sorry about your world. I can feel some of his emotions, and yours. Your bonds are very powerful.”

Dean stepped forward and spoke. “This is sacred cedar wood oil from our home, it symbolizes security and stability. It's gifted among mortals of which your heritage consists. I wish you luck in maintaining a secure and stable world for those you care about.”

Aaron humbly took Dean's gift, and again his eyes were aglow with yellow grace, then blue.

“Thank you. I sincerely wish you the same Dean, for both your journey home and once you've returned.”

Lastly, Cas stepped forward, and spoke with reverence. “This is an incense, burned for deities. May you always keep your celestial purpose in sight, and remember that even for immortals, life everlasting is still a journey and not a destination.”

As Aaron graciously accepted Cas's gift, for the last time his eyes lit up with power and grace.

“I'm blessed to have met you three. Thank you Castiel, I wish for you that along this incredible, continuing journey you realize everyone looks to light for purpose, including light itself. Take care of yourself, as you care for others, you’re just as important.”

All three hugged Aaron and wished him well, as they finally heard sirens in the distance. Sam gave him their other rain ponchos to keep the girls dry and warm until he made it home.

~*~*~*~

December 10, 2818

 

The second they returned to the safety of Betty the bunker, they saw to Jack's immediate needs of a bath, clothing, and diapers.

“Damn! We're fresh out of nephil formula,” Dean comically complained.

“I’m sure we'll sort it out,” Sam smirked.

All gathered around him in the War Room, as Cas brought himself completely back inside the bunker. Hours passed in wonderment over hushed conversation, while taking turns showering the beautiful boy with unrestrained affection.  

Gerald, of course, made repeated attempts at claiming Jack as his own. Only when Dean let him on his lap so they both could hold the serene infant, was his nurturing instinct appeased. Gerald delicately brushed through his fine tuft of hair, bestowing Jack love and acceptance with his grooming gesture. The infant's eyes were full of gracious joy.

“Gerald’s happy we have a new family member, and promised to always love and help care for him. Jack has declared he'll do the same,” Cas articulated.

Sam and Dean long ago ceased to be shocked by Cas's incredible connections with animals, yet they were no less content at Cas’s words.

“It’s awesome they’re bonding already,” Dean issued, with love saturating his tone.

Gozer the Gozerian approached with intent, gifting the crown of the baby’s head with a small, gentle lick, then a wet snoot bump as a silent exclamation point. Jack's mouth made a perfect O shape, then upturned on one side, mirroring a very pleasant trademark smile of Dean's.

Cas translated the exchange. “For the first time in his life Gozer approached someone new, without any degree of fear. He's thankful and vows to always protect him, to the best of his ability. Jack has vowed to the same.”

Next, Nova hopped on Cas’s arm, inches away from the baby’s head, nestled in the crook of Dean's elbow. She clicked her beak at the baby, and bent down to rub her feathery cheek very, very slowly against Jack's. The gesture was met with an unmistakable smile and a happy gurgling sound.

“As most birds can, Nova perceives a likeness between Jack and herself. She wishes him health and strong wings, and offered him guardianship for the rest of her days. Jack is greatly looking forward to flying with her, so they can have fun while watching over those they hold dear.”

“This is really cool,” Sam smiled.

“My baby,” Gerald signed. Everyone melted at the loving orangutan's claim.

“ _Our_ baby,” Sam signed to Gerald, who seemed content with the correction.

“I'm still shocked..the prophecy was fulfilled, I can't believe it. Part of me is wondering if it's really him,” Sam quietly conveyed.

From the desk, a pencil flew, hitting him on the side of his head.

All three laughed. “Alright Jack, I believe!” Sam smiled, rubbing his temple. “Why doesn't he make himself older and talk to us?”

“He missed out before on being a kid, how many people do you know get a second chance at that? He wants to experience childhood, I'm all for it,” Dean asserted.

“An example of time and history repeating itself. Our journey has been unique, but not the first of it's kind, nor the last,” Cas remarked.

Dean was now the one giving him the quizzical look and head tilt.

Cas placed a kiss on his husband's delectable lips and whispered, “Think on it Dean. It'll come to you, _in time._ ”

 

As the sun broke over the horizon, they realized it’d been eight hundred years to the day since they'd lost Jack. Eight centuries they'd pursued and finally fulfilled the mysterious prophecy leading to their world's salvation, and in doing so, reaffirmed the beloved miracle of lasting light in another. It was a fitting departure date for their last jump. What they'd find back in their own world was uncertain, but they now breathed deeply, knowing there'd be one. And it was all thanks to Jack- a promised child for whom three men journeyed so far by starlight to find. On a cold, lonely night near a barn under night’s brightest star, faith was rekindled and hope restored.  

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the Prophecy-
> 
> "A binary sun born under its star  
> Received by vessels from near and far  
> Cocooned within the swift, tilting galaxy  
> One is found, two depart, there stay three  
> Observe me once by loss, thrice by sight   
> Hold hope which sprang from perilous night"
> 
>  
> 
> The word Cas pronounced, "Aur-y-ent" is not the way "Orient" is pronounced in Hebrew. I merely took liberty with that for further connection to the biblical account of the Three Kings journeying from the Orient to bless Christ with their gifts.
> 
> Also, the Star of Bethlehem was indeed a triple conjunction which occurred around the "rough estimated" time of Jesus's birth, give or take a few years and it's presentation by those who study the ancient Magi beliefs concur it would have been interpreted as and heralded the birth of someone important, destined to rule in the middle east.
> 
> "A triple conjunction is an astronomical event, where two planets or a planet and a star meet each other three times in a short period either in opposition or at the time of inferior conjunction, if an inferior planet is involved." (Wikipedia)


End file.
